


Server sprint challenges

by IntoTheRiverStyx



Series: Requests/challenges/etc [5]
Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheRiverStyx/pseuds/IntoTheRiverStyx
Summary: Sprints, timed works, and other prompts the Arthuriana server feeds me.
Relationships: Guinevere/Morgan le Fay
Series: Requests/challenges/etc [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673452
Kudos: 7





	Server sprint challenges

Lancelot paced the corridor, wringing his hands.

"Will you stop that?" Morgan snapped, "If anything I should be pacing."

"She's my _friend_ ," Lancelot did stop pacing, at least.

"And she's my _girlfriend_ ," Morgan snapped, "Were you able to get a lock of her hair?"

"Yes," Lancelot fished a packet tied with horsehair from his belt pouch, "hopefully this is enough?"

"More than," Morgan nodded, "Now go, get out, get back to your castle."

"I hate how history is going to remember me," Lancelot said as he left.

"Oh my sweet summer child," Morgan said as soon as he was out of earshot, "a favorable memory was never in the stars for you."

\--

Guinevere was burning.

Well, the sticks and tar under her were. 

Smoke and tears blurred her vision. She used the last of her strength to curse Arthur, curse gis arrogance, curse the misplaced faith he still held in Merlin's advice.

The fire hit one of the bigger pockets of tar.

Roared into a new, stronger life.

Guinevere's curses turned into a single scream as the heat enveloped her.

Then cold.

Stone cold.

She sucked in deep, open-mouthed breaths of air.

Morgan's arms enveloped her.

"Oh my love," Morgan wept, "Oh my sweet, sweet Guinevere."

When Guinevere's lungs finally had their fill of air she, too, wept.

\--

Guinevere's feet recovered last, the fire's heat having burned near all their skin off. She walked on her toes when she walked at all, desperate to minimize the pain.

Lancelot visited once, to tell her what he had done, the guilt of defying his king despite knowing he did the right thing etched into the exhausted lines on his face.

She took one of Lancelot's hands with both of her own. 

"You saved my life," she told him plainly. 

If the lines eased a little, it was too faint to notice.

\--

Mordred was her only other visitor. 

"How did you know?" Morgan demanded, her footfalls heavy as she chased after Mordred.

"The Queen is set to burn at the stake and disappears in the highest flames?" Mordred called over his shoulder before breaking into a run, "Who else could it have been?"

\--

Mordred listened, uncharacteristically quiet, as Guinevere told him of Arthur's betrayal, how he accused her of treason for finding her with Morgan as if he had not committed the same treason with his other sister.

When she was done, Mordred let the silence linger for several beats before he said, "He's blaming Lancelot."

"Of course he is," Guinevere spat.

"Dearest nephew," Morgan had been waiting in the doorway.

Mordred sighed.

"A lock of Lancelot's hair and then get the hell out of the country for a few decades?" Mordred guessed.

\--

"We should make sure it really sticks," Guinevere suggested, "make sure it haunts the entire damned court until the end of its days."

"In that case," Morgan's reply was so immediate it was clear she had been thinking the same thing. 

\--

Mordred was sent back to Camelot with a large wineskin full of cow's blood instead of being told where to flee to.

\--

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Lancelot said as he splashed some of the blood down his front, let it fall to the floor.

"I can't believe I'm trusting my aunt to get us both out," Mordred made sure there was enough blood on his sword for it to be believable.

\--

The guards came running as soon as they heard Lancelot's scream.

"Ow," Lancelot whispered, "you didn't need to pinch THAT hard!"

"It needed to sound like genuine pain," Mordred hissed.

Lancelot let himself fall to the floor right as his door was opened with enough force to damage the hinges. 

Chaos erupted, overlapping shouts calling for more guards, for a medic, for Mordred's arrest.

Whatever Mordred chanted as both he and Lancelot's corpse disappeared was lost to the noise.

\--

Lancelot groaned as he staggered to his feet, wild disbelief drawing a Single-syllable laugh from him.

"Thanks auntie," Mordred grunted as he offered Lancelot a steadying hand. 

Lancelot used Mordred's hand to pull himself up.

"Go wash up," Morgan told the men, "Mordred, why do you have blood in your hair? No. Don't answer that. Go. Wash. We'll figure out what to do next in the morning."

\--

Guinevere sighed contentedly, Morgan's arms wrapped so tightly around her, safe, warm, alive.

"Camelot's shit itself," Morgan informed her.

"Good," Guinevere huffed.

"And not a drop of blood spilled," Morgan sounded smug.

"Well," Guinevere corrected before they both dissolved into giggles.


End file.
